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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22548169">A Terrible, No Good Day</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkwell1013/pseuds/Inkwell1013'>Inkwell1013</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Sherlock is a Good Boyfriend</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:41:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>503</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22548169</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkwell1013/pseuds/Inkwell1013</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>John is having a very bad day. Could Sherlock be just the person he needs to comfort him?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sherlock Holmes &amp; John Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Terrible, No Good Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a short fic I made to stretch my writing muscles. I'm trying to start writing again but it's definitely harder than it used to be. Haha. Any critiques welcome lol.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>John knew he wasn’t supposed to have favorite patients but there was just something about Ethan Walker that was special. The little boy was a ray of perpetual sunshine. In a lot of ways, Ethan reminded John of Sherlock, just less irritating. The lad was fiercely intelligent, especially for an eight-year-old boy. Sharp as a tack and cute as a button. He loved to read to and was always begging his parents to bring him more books. He was also very, very sick.</p><p>On the days when Ethan was too weak to read himself, John would slip into the boy's room and flick through a chapter of a book with him. It was fun hanging out with Ethan during his breaks, just talking about random things like the boy's favorite television show. He enjoyed the kid's company.</p><p>That’s why it hurt so much when he came into work the next morning, only to find out that Ethan had died in the night. He kept it together for most of the day. He just felt numb and sad. It was when John got home to 221B bake street, that the tears started to come.</p><p>Sherlock was bustling around in the kitchen, trying to do the dishes and failing spectacularly. When he heard the front door creak open, he wandered into the front room to ask if John wanted a cup of tea. He was not expecting to see John standing in front of the door, briefcase still in hand, crying silently.</p><p>“What's wrong John,” asked Sherlock gently.</p><p>John could barely speak. All he could mumble was “My favorite patient passed away last night,” before being racked with sobs. Sherlock approached him slowly as if John was a frightened animal. He lightly placed his hands on John's shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug. John cried into Sherlock's shirt, feeling comfort in the familiar smell of Sherlock's clothes.</p><p>Sherlock let John stay like that for a bit while running his fingers through John's sandy hair affectionately. Slowly, Sherlock picks up John, one hand on his back and the other underneath his knees. The blonde man wept into the consulting detective's chest. John is small for a man and quite slight, so this easier than Sherlock thought it would be. Carefully and steadily, he makes his way to the bedroom.</p><p>Once there he laid John down on the bed and John curled into a fetal position, crying into the pillow. Sherlock stepped back to close the door and turned out the light, Wordlessly, he slipped into the bed next to John, enveloping him in a warm embrace and pulling the covers over them. The two of them fell into a companionable silence, with John reassured by Sherlock's comforting presence.</p><p>After what may have been seconds or may have been hours, John whispered a quiet “I love you,” into the darkness. He heard Sherlock's response half a second later. “I love you too sweetheart,” Sherlock nuzzled his nose into John's neck and everything is okay again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come yell at me on tumblr.<br/><a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/inkwell1013">my account</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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